


I Hope You Stay For a Long, Long Time

by MissSunFlower94



Series: Illustrations of a Wizard in Love [6]
Category: Mairelon the Magician - Patricia Wrede
Genre: F/M, Gen, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, more friendship than romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2020-02-29 05:34:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18772240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSunFlower94/pseuds/MissSunFlower94
Summary: "I think I want you in my life forever"Short looks at Kim and Mairelon's time together in Kent between the two books.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As kinda mentioned in tags, while I think these two were steadily falling for each other since day one, they definitely didn't realize until later, so these are going to read mostly platonic while still slow-building their relationship.

The first words Kim memorized how to write were her name. First K-I-M, and from there M-E-R-R-I-L-L.

She memorized it because she had to write it a great many times while she and Mairelon sorted through all the paperwork that would make her legally his ward. He was kind enough to read and explain the majority of it to her - although much of the legalese was still lost on her - but he did require that she write her name every time the documents asked for it. 

"Wait a moment," Mairelon said, just as she had thought she was finished. He studied the last page she'd given him before turning it back to her. "There are two 'L's in Merrill." 

She glared, first at her nearly illegible writing and then at him. She couldn't even recognize the one L, let alone that she'd forgotten a second. "Why?"

"There just is," he said with a shrug. He appeared entirely unbothered, but she could tell he was as impatient with the process as she was. Well it had been his idea. She wasn’t feeling particularly sorry for him.

"Remind me again," she said, scratching the line that would form the second L in Merrill and handing the paper back to him. "Why you gotta adopt me in order for me to learn any magic?"

"I'm not adopting you," Mairelon said quickly. She raised an eyebrow; from what Mairelon had been reading, she would be his responsibility to feed and take care of, she would get something called 'pin money' from him, and, from what she’d been writing all day, she would be sharing his name. He waved a hand at her reaction. "Semantics. I just mean I'm not _raising_ you - you don’t particularly need any more raising."

"That still don’t explain why we got to do any of this." If anything, Mairelon's explanation had only made it more confusing. 

" _Doesn't_ ," he said, giving her a quick smile. "There’s a number of reasons. The Merrill family is a rather well-known and respectable name in Society. Magic or no, being my ward will open more for you, with regards to your future. Furthermore, it will make it easier to grant you access to the materials an apprentice needs for beginning lessons."

"But primarily," he continued, studying the documentation again. "Society is rather strict about the, er, proprieties of a situation like ours. Regardless of your background, you are a young, unmarried woman and I'm similarly unattached; making you my ward is something of written promise that our relationship will be perfectly respectable and that I would not be taking advantage."

She frowned, thinking about the times Hunch had frowned about her and Mairelon being alone together and - more often - the times Mairelon poked fun at his Henchman's concerns. So just from signing a couple papers every Toff in London would rest assured that nothing untoward would happen between them. Her frown deepened. Suddenly signing a couple papers didn't seem near enough; it seemed like a quick way to get people to stop paying attention.

"That's it? What’s stopping someone from taking advantage anyway?” 

Mairelon’s expression hardened, and too late she knew she'd said the wrong thing. When he spoke his voice was the shade _too_ polite it got when he was upset. "Nothing but his honor, I suppose."

Kim tried not to flinch. She'd learned that the more cynical outlooks that had been instilled in her throughout her life on the streets upset Mairelon. She'd also started to work out that he was never truly angry _with_ her, but angry _for_ her. That knowledge didn't really make her feel better; she didn't know what she was supposed to do about it.

Mairelon took a deep breath, seeming to catch his own reaction. "Kim," he said, then paused and cleared his throat. Not quite looking at her, he continued, “Kim, I'm doing this for you, because you deserve to have a proper chance to learn magic and this is the simplest way to go about it. I have the highest respect for you and would never want to put you in a situation where you're uncomfortable. If this- that is, if you're... unconvinced, I could speak to Renee about-"

Oh. _Oh_. Kim realized what he was saying and felt herself beginning to blush. "Oh, no! I wasn't saying I was  _worried_ about that! Not about you!"

His expression cleared immediately, and she could see his cheeks had darkened a little as well. "Oh. Well, that's alright then. I didn't think- but I thought it would better to be sure."

Kim sighed her relief. "For a minute it sounded like you’d been listening to Hunch."

"You know me better than that, surely." He smiled, before running a hand through his hair. "So you're alright with this, then? Being my ward, I mean?"

"I think it's all a bit silly still, but I wouldn’t be sittin here trying to muddle through all this if I didn't want to go through with it," she said frankly. 

"Right," he said, and Kim thought he might have relaxed a little more. "Good. Let's finish this up then, and I'll take it to the Court."

“Are we done then?” 

“I believe so,” he said brightly. “Granted, I've never done this before and undoubtedly I’ve missed something." She groaned and he laughed. "Trust me, it will be worth it." 

Kim couldn't help but smile back. She still wasn't sure about the whole ward business but if meant Mairelon would be teaching her magic, that there was still a place for her in his life for now... she supposed it would be well worth it indeed. 


	2. Chapter 2

Kim and Mairelon stayed at Renee’s townhouse during their week in London, at her request. While Mairelon was kept busy with Lord Shoreham and the Royal College, Renee kept Kim company as much as she was able. The London Season was just beginning, however, and that apparently meant Mademoiselle D’Auber’s company was in high demand. Most mornings she paid calls to acquaintances, and many evenings she had some kind of dinner or engagement. 

In the absence of her companions, Kim spent most hours working on the reading lessons Mairelon had left her, usually in the spacious and well-stocked library. Her room itself was a tiny space on the top floor. While barely wider than some alleyways she’d dossed in, it held a small bed and side table, and it was dry, warm, and private. All things she was unused to.

And at that moment, it had a package sitting on the end of the bed. 

Confused, Kim unwrapped it and found within a cotton dress. Plain, perhaps, in comparison to the things she’d seen Renee and other Society ladies wear, but nevertheless the finest thing she had ever had in her own possession. The fabric was lighter and softer than a cloud and it was the blue of the sky on sunny summer days. 

 _I’d meant to get you a dress_ _but there wasn’t time,_ Mairelon had told her weeks before, when she had first gone with him out of London. There had been time now, and he’d remembered. She supposed it made sense; now that her gender wasn’t a secret it would be seen as strange if she was still dressing like a boy, but that didn’t stop the rush of gratitude she felt looking it over. Never in a million years would she have expected she’d have a dress of her own.

Gratitude mixed with alarm when she noticed there was more in the package than the dress. Clean white underclothes - and more of them than she expected. While some she could ascertain the use of, she still had no idea in what order they all went on, let alone how some of them functioned. It all felt as foreign as learning reading and magic, and just as impossible to learn. Reading and magic _weren't_ impossible, though, not anymore - but that was because she had Mairelon.

She supposed she had Renee, at least while they were in London. She was still paying her morning calls, however. Kim had no idea when to expect Mairelon (he’d said nothing about the clothes over breakfast), and besides, he was hardly the person she wanted to voice her concerns about undergarments to. She headed back towards the library, still in her boy’s clothes, feeling a little disheartened. She’d just have to wait until Renee was back, that was all. 

To her surprise and further embarrassment, she still found Mairelon first. He was at the bottom of the stairs, in the process of giving a note to one of the footmen, saying something about a letter to his mother.

He turned before she could make her retreat. He grinned and dismissed the footman. “Ah, Kim! There’s something for you in your room when you have a moment.”

She blushed. “I saw,” she said, unsure how to explain why she hadn’t changed.

“Oh, good,” Mairelon continued, cheerful and oblivious. “Did everything fit? The store expected more measurements than I really, er, knew so I thought I would let you try that on first before I went back for the rest.” 

Kim’s head spun a little. “The… rest?” 

“Well, we’re hardly going to be paying daily social calls but that doesn’t mean you’re expected to wear the same thing every day for the next year. You’ll have at least seven or eight, to start.” 

Seven or eight dresses? For her? “Oh,” she said. She didn’t know what else to say. 

Mairelon gave her a quick smile, and moved on. “So, I assume I wasn’t quite on the mark on my first try.” 

“I ain’t - _haven’t_ \- tried it yet. I don’t-” She picked at the sleeve of her jacket and didn’t meet his eye. “I didn’t know how to get into it.”

There was a brief pause, and Kim was very glad she was not looking at him. “Of course,” he said at last, and he sounded so completely unconcerned that she could feel a bit of her nerves recede immediately. “You wouldn’t be expected to - nor would you, no matter your background. Most ladies have a maid or an Abigail assist them.”  

She blinked, relieved if a little confused. One of Renee’s maids had helped bathe her when she had first arrived, but she didn’t know how often one was supposed to call upon the staff’s help. “Always?” 

“I believe so.” There was another pause, and this time it was Mairelon not meeting her eye. “If you’d like to return to your room I could ask one of the maids see to you. Or if you would rather wait for Renee…” 

Kim shook her head. Suddenly the idea of prolonging this felt unbearable. “No, no. You can- now is fine.”

“I’ll be in the library, when you’re ready then.” She spared Mairelon the barest nod of acknowledgement before disappearing back up the stairs.

* * *

She joined him in the library nearly half an hour later, her cheeks burning. She kept reminding herself that Mairelon had known she was a girl from the moment he’d met her. She had nothing to hide - but she felt nervous and exposed standing in front of him. 

“There you are!” Mairelon got to his feet and studied her, nothing in his expression but an innocent, almost academic, inspection. “It looks alright, but you’d be a better judge. How do you feel?”

“Like I’m still pretending to be a boy, just a boy in a dress.” 

Mairelon blinked and she bit her lip, wishing she hadn’t sounded so sullen. The tiny attic room didn’t have a mirror but the maid had taken her to one of the better bedrooms on the third floor to dress her, so she could see everything that was happening. When it was done, Kim had gazed at the scrawny person looking back at her, unsure why she was feeling so disappointed. One dress wasn’t going to suddenly change everything she was. 

Before she could take back or explain her words, he smiled again. “I see. Well, I suppose that’s to be expected. You’ve spent most of your life used to a certain way of dress; you’re not going to be immediately comfortable in something so different. Now,” he continued briskly. “Regardless, I want to be sure they’re not _physically_ uncomfortable to wear - how does it feel?”

Swallowing another rush of gratitude - how Mairelon managed to understand her when _she_ barely understood her own tangle of feelings was a wonder - she looked down at herself, smoothing the cotton. It really was a lovely color. “It’s a little loose, but I think I like that. It’s a bit long, too. I keep feeling like I’m going to trip on it when I walk.” 

He nodded. “Good, good. I’ll keep that in mind when I go back tomorrow. I don’t think we’ll be in London for more than two more days. Is that alright?”

“Sounds bang-up to me.” In truth, she had no idea what to expect from them going to Kent, but the unknown of that particular venture excited her. “And Mairelon?” 

“Mmm?”

“Thank you.” 

He beamed and the whole room brightened. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll actually get to Kent next chapter I promise lol
> 
> Also some of these will end up being from Mairelon's POV. I'll mark them at the beginning and it will also be hard to miss as I'll be calling him Richard when we're in his head.


	3. Chapter 3

When Mairelon hadn’t been giving official statements about the entire Saltash Set dealings, he had been picking up the materials an apprentice wizard would need. Those materials went into cases that, along with the new dresses he had bought, would be going straight to Kent. Servants in the Merrill family employ would be taking their luggage to the country a few days ahead of them so that everything would be ready when they arrived. That was all perfectly well, except for that it ate at Kim’s curiosity at nearly all hours, knowing her lessons ( _magic_ lessons!) were so close at hand.

They departed on the morning of their eighth day in London. In theory it was a day’s journey to Kent, but since it would be a very long day and, in Mairelon’s words, they were in no hurry, the travel was split into two days - one night at an inn and reaching the Merrill Country Estate by early the following afternoon. 

All told, traveling by carriage was favorable to their previous journeying in Mairelon’s not-meant-to-be-ridden-in wagon. The seating was comfortable, the roads in better condition, and both legs of their trip Kim found herself dozing, even with how difficult she discovered it was to slouch in a corset. 

When she wasn’t sleeping, Mairelon occasionally drilled her on her language lessons or - when the road was especially smooth - on some of her slight of hand. But mostly, he told her stories of the Merrill family residence in Kent. Stories from his childhood with his brother, about an old unused carriage house that they had made their own fort, about a pond on the property that Mairelon had once smuggled frogs into the house from, about their great Irish Wolfhound that stayed year round on the grounds (”You’ll love Basil,” Mairelon had said when she'd tensed. “He’s exactly like Hunch.”). 

What Mairelon had not spoken much of was the country home itself. When he did, in passing, it was with a modesty that, in hindsight, Kim shouldn’t have believed for a minute. What toffs - even a toff as unusual as Mairelon - thought was modest never aligned with what she knew.

She should have known all of this, but she was still stunned into near speechlessness when the Merrill Estate at last came into view. The manor was smaller, perhaps, than Brammingham Place but not by nearly as much as Kim had been picturing from the way Mairelon had been speaking. 

The residence was two stories tall and didn’t have any protruding wings, but it didn’t need them it was so long. It was perfectly symmetrical on both sides of a columned entry way, with wide stairs leading to the ornate and heavy wooden doors. The gardens that circled the carriage walk were just beginning to bloom and when the sun broke through clouds it added vibrant color that looked to Kim like something in a painting. The whole thing felt a little like a painting, a little unreal to be pulled up in front of this fine gentry estate and know that she was being allowed to stay there. Her, a waif off the streets of London. 

“Well then. Here we are,” Mairelon said, a set to his shoulders that belied his casual tone. 

 _He hasn’t been here in over five years_ , Kim thought suddenly. She looked at the palatial house again, and wondered if it had changed in that time, and how it would feel to have a home change while you were away, during a time when you hadn’t been sure when - or if - you’d ever see it again. She shook her head. It was useless for her to try and imagine how he was feeling; she’d never had a home to come back to. 

Mairelon glanced her way and his smile brightened, his posture relaxing. “Well, come along. I suspect you’ll want to see more than just the face.”

Without waiting for her response, he opened the carriage door and slipped out. She blinked, startled, and then fumbled to do the same. Her skirts twisted around her legs as she tried to get down and thankfully before she could fall on her face, Mairelon caught her hand and helped her lean on him as she stepped from the carriage to the ground. 

“I thought a person’s supposed to get more graceful in skirts,” she grumbled, more to herself.

Mairelon still laughed. “I imagine, like anything else, that takes practice.”

She scowled at him, ready to snap that she was already practicing talking she wasn’t about to start practicing _walking_ now, too - but he had already dropped her hand and was walking briskly towards the entrance. Shaking her head, Kim rushed - as fast as her dress would allow - to catch up. 

He'd gotten the door unlocked and opened by the time she reached him. He shot her a smile that was almost shy, before waving her in. “After you.”

Kim stepped in and was struck once again by the size of the place. Buildings weren’t ever bigger on the inside but the front entrance to Mairelon’s home certainly felt like it was, what with the high ceilings and the large split staircase that curved up from in front of them. Light caught on the highly polished wooded banisters and on the gilded surfaces of fine art on the side walls. 

It was hard to reconcile the room, the house, with the stories Mairelon had been telling her about being a rambunctious child, and somehow the first thing out of her mouth was, “You brought _frogs_ in here?”

Mairelon laughed. “And promptly lost them. Staff were finding them for years to come - I’d had no idea they lived that long.” She shook her head in wonder. “I wasn’t the worst; Andrew was always more interested in biology than I was - he wanted to dissect them.”

Kim wrinkled up her nose and Mairelon grinned. “Now, let’s see,” he continued, leading her to an open doorway to their left. “This is where the dining room is...”

Mairelon proceeded to lead her through the ground floor rooms - the dining room with a table set for more people than Kim thought she'd ever know and dark wood beams along the ceiling, a large drawing room with fine couches and a beautiful pianoforte, a smaller sitting room full of strange, unfamiliar art that Mairelon told her mostly came from when his father had been in India in his youth.

The house, Mairelon told her as they walked, belonged technically to Andrew after their father had passed. However, their mother had remarried but never had any more children and their step-father had chosen to name Andrew his heir to his title and his estate on top of what he was already inheriting.

“This house will always be Andrew’s, in name,” he continued. “He’s just less likely to be using it in the future. Now that things have been, er, smoothed over between us - and between myself and the law - he’s seen no reason why we can’t be left to handle it when he’s absent.” 

Kim didn’t miss the ‘ _we_ ’ that he had used, but brushed the thought aside. She was still in awe that she was even allowed to step foot in this place.

The library was at the very back of the ground floor and the room Mairelon had clearly been most excited to show her. “This is where we’ll spend a great deal of time, I imagine,” he’d said, sounding almost giddy about the prospect. 

It was as long as the larger drawing room but a little more narrow. It was still impressively large, with bookshelves lining two walls completely and a row of low display cabinets underneath another wall of windows. The shelves were all full, and there were comfortable looking chairs and sofas along the center of the room in regular intervals. 

The windows looked out on what must have been the back of the house, facing another extensive garden, with a small paved sitting area at its center. Late afternoon sunlight filled the room with warm light. Kim took a moment to imagine spending her days here, for weeks, for months even. It was as extraordinary as the idea that she would be learning _magic_ there. 

With the library shown off, the rest of the tour went fairly quickly. Mairelon led her up the wide staircase to the first floor. There, she was shown a long, narrow gallery of expensive looking paintings and sculpture, two small parlors and an office - with smaller bookshelves and a low desk. Then he led her down a hall with a surprising amount of purpose and no say to where they were going.

Picking a door in what appeared like complete random, he poked his head in and said, “Ah, and here we are!”

“Here’s what?” Kim asked, straining to see over his shoulder.

Mairelons grinned and threw open the door with his most dramatic flourish. “Your room.”

Kim blinked, and hesitantly stepped into the doorway. Mairelon was right; this was the room that held the chests and boxes of new clothing Mairelon had procured for her. They sat at the foot of a large bed adorned with white sheets and a pale green floral covering. The same light green was in trim on the curtains of a wide window and a band at the very top of the walls. A pale cream dressing table sat along one wall with a matching table beside her bed and a tall cabinet in a corner. 

It was twice the size of the room she’d had at the inn the night before, nearly three times the size of the attic room in Renee’s townhouse in London. The room faced west and the setting sun painted the white walls and linens a soft gold. It smelled like something she didn’t recognize that she could only imagine was _clean_. It was the prettiest thing Kim had ever seen in her life. 

“This is mine?” She echoed, barely hearing herself speak.

Mairelon was watching her carefully. “If you like it,” he said, again a deceptive casualness to his voice. “I thought this one suited you - but if you’d like, there are four other spare bedrooms and we can see if one of them is more to your taste.”

If Kim had had any speech left, she’d lost it now. She had thought the servants had simply chosen a bedroom at random - with how many he’d already told her the house possessed, but she’d been wrong. This had been picked and readied just for _her_.

Kim knew enough to know that being someone’s ward wasn’t a permanent arrangement, and neither was being Mairelon’s apprentice. Silently, she had told herself throughout the tour that, regardless of whatever Mairelon might say, she was a guest in his home, and she was grateful enough for that.

But now, for the first time, those thoughts slipped away and she let in the notion that this place would be hers, too. 

“Kim?” Mairelon asked, now made decidedly uncertain by her silence. "Do you like it?"

She tried to focus on the room itself again, so at least she could form an honest answer for what she thought of it. She didn’t know what about the lovely, soft colored room had made him think of her. Nothing so fine would she ever associate with herself. She blinked against suddenly stinging eyes and nodded, unable to trust her voice.

But Mairelon had still been watching her face closely, and said, “I see,” very softly. Then he was smiling, swiftly as cheerful and relaxed as ever. “Well now. It’s getting to be early evening, so perhaps I’ll leave you to settle yourself in before supper. What do you say?”

Grateful for the time to collect herself, Kim nodded again. She waited until he left, absently informing her as he did that supper would likely be in an hour, before she wiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands.

* * *

 

In an hour she’d get lost on her way to the dining room, and Mairelon would wind up fetching her, laughing and playfully suggesting creating a map. Kim would glare at him, but her heart wouldn’t be in it. For all that she felt extremely overwhelmed, there was little room in her heart for anything right then but joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole fic could also be titled 'Kim gets nice things and doesn't know how to handle it'


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You get a surprise Richard POV for this one.

_Richard,_

_I am overjoyed to hear the news of your acquittal and subsequent return to society. This rift in our family has been a painful ordeal for all of us here, I cannot begin to imagine what it was like for you. It pains me yet, that I do not have the ability to come see you while you are in Kent, for I wish to hear more of your doings since you have been away. I have read the official statements, of course, but I know you, dear, and I have a feeling things were a great deal more exciting from your perspective._

_It is good to hear that Hunch is doing well, as he has always done such a wonderful job looking out for you when you’ve needed it, and you simply must tell me more about this girl you’ve taken in! I am sure you have heard from Andrew how unusual this situation is, and what gossip it will no doubt incur, so I will not repeat any of it - instead, I would like to hear more about this young wizard herself, and how you found her._

_I look forward to hearing from you, now and in the future. I will keep you informed on my health and doings – as well as when it might be possible to see you._

_Best Wishes,_

_Your Mother_

Richard Merrill sat the letter back on the writing desk, feeling quite unable to stop smiling. He had read it nearly a dozen times since receiving it that afternoon and felt soon that he would have to find a safe place to keep it so it didn’t grow fragile from how many time he unfolded and refolded the paper. 

Relief and joy kept him re-reading the letter, but also as a distraction. Distracting himself from the fact that he had spent the last hour stuck in the middle of his reply. A more involved detailing of the Saltash Set dealings came easily; the issue he kept coming back to was how to explain the growing partnership with Kim that had culminated in making her his ward.

He’d had a fairly simple plan when he first met her. Bring along the girl with all the apparent skills of a master locksmith and pass on enough of his stage magic tricks to her along the way, so that by the time their journey ended she’d be able to find work that would keep her safe and out of other people’s pockets. Whatever Hunch might have – and did – say, Richard had known what he was doing.

However, his plans rarely stayed simple. He started to realize as much at Ranton Hill. When Kim had told him, quite bluntly, that if her gender were to be discovered she would almost certainly be forced into prostitution and no single acquaintance – not even the few she’d trusted enough to keep with – would have protected her.

Richard had listened to this, very carefully tried to keep the anger out of his expression, and silently added a resolution to his – at the time, somewhat lengthy – list: Kim would never go back on the streets.

He'd had no idea how to go about this, of course, but then he’d managed to accomplish a lot of things with only a vague goal and an even vaguer plan. This would be no different.

Magic had never occurred to him as a plan but as soon as it was presented, even as a chance, it had felt like a sign. A confirmation from the universe that he and Kim were meant to stay together. Making her his ward was what he privately thought was an unnecessarily complicated step, but it kept Kim in his life and so he didn’t complain.

Richard was wondering why he could think all of this through with such clarity but felt strangely reluctant to put any of it paper - he’d had no such reservations in telling his mother about far more complicated incidents - when he heard the doors to the library creak open.

“Mairelon?” Richard turned toward Kim’s voice. “What’re you doing?” She stood, hesitant, in the doorway. In a dressing gown Renee had given her, a little too big, she looked more like a child than Richard knew she was. He tried not to laugh.

Kim had been in Kent with him for a little over a month and he knew she still didn’t feel entirely comfortable yet. He wasn’t sure how to fix that other than make it clear how comfortable he felt having her there. That was easy because it was true, truer than he had even expected. At first, he had just been happy to have someone to introduce to his home – it made it feel more like it really was his, and not the person he had been five years before – but Kim’s presence in his home, as with everywhere else in his life it seemed, felt perfectly natural.

“Just writing something,” he said, lifting his quill with a smile.

Kim raised her eyebrows. “This late?”

“You’re awake, too,” he pointed out. He frowned suddenly. “Why are you awake?”

“Nothing,” she said far too quickly. “I mean, I’m fine. I was just- I’m fine.”

“Kim.”

She picked at her sleeve and looked at the floor. “Couldn’t sleep. It’s really nothin. What’re you writing?”

Richard felt tempted to push the issue, but he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable through interrogations. He waved her toward him instead. “I am, in fact, in the middle of extolling your virtues right now.”

“Oh, give over,” Kim snapped. She was blushing, which Richard thought was charming. “If you’re just gonna tease me, I’ll go.”

“I’m not teasing,” he said, in spite of his laughter. She pursed her lips in what was almost a pout - which was also terribly endearing. “I’m really not. My mother was curious about you.”

Her petulant expression evaporated, replaced with confusion. “Your mother? Why? I thought making me your ward meant nobody were- _was_ going to poke around in what I’m doin with you.” 

“That doesn’t extend to familial curiosity, I’m afraid. You needn’t worry; curiosity isn’t judgement, especially not from my mother - and besides, I was serious when I said I was telling her of your virtues.”

Kim snorted softly. “Don’t think most folk call pickin locks - and pockets - virtuous.”

“You’re lucky my mother hardly qualifies as _most folk_.” Richard did dearly wish his mother were closer; on top of having missed her a great deal, she was a difficult woman to explain without meeting.

When Kim still looked skeptical, he put aside the banter. “Kim, I wouldn’t be here without your help. You know that, don’t you? Outside your skill with locks and even your undeniably useful knowledge of Daniel Laverham - you helped me with relatively few questions.” He flashed her a quick smile. “Not to mention, no real promise of reward. That is something to be prized in Society, and I imagine nearly unheard of in the world you’re used to. I’m not about to overlook that.”

Her blush had returned but she had no denial ready. In her silence, Richard felt his own face warm, suddenly feeling as though he had said something- not _wrong_ , but _more_ than he had intended. It was the same feeling that had kept him unable to write about her. There was no concern that his mother wouldn’t like Kim (she was exceptionally likable, he thought; only Hunch made a show of disliking her for appearance’s sake, and he wasn’t even that good at it), there was no fear that his intentions toward her would be misinterpreted. And yet, putting his regard for her out in words felt like a confession to something he didn’t know. 

Well, it was nothing he hadn’t meant, and he wanted Kim to understand that.

She still said nothing, but he caught a small smile at the corner of her mouth, and relaxed. “Now,” he said. “You’ve reminded me how late it is indeed. I’ll leave singing your praises for the morning.”

“Cloth-head,” Kim muttered, but her smile grew. She smiled more often now but he still felt each one like a victory. She picked at the dressing gown sleeve again. “Suppose I should try to sleep again, too.”

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” He asked, unable to help himself. If it was something he could help with…

“Just couldn’t.” He raised an eyebrow and she sighed. “Just not used to it yet.”

“Used to what?”

“The, um, bed.” She waved a hand. “Nothing’s wrong with it, I mean. It’s all soft and- and warm, and I just… ain’t used to being warm.”

Richard kept his face carefully impassive, though the way her voice had dropped on the last few words felt a bit like a hit to the chest. It was mid-April, and a cold spring thus far – colder still without the blanket heat of London. He had thought she must be glad to be out of that chill, but this was a side of it he hadn’t considered. There were still aspects of her past that he would never completely understand, however much he wanted to.

“I see,” he said at last. “Have you been having trouble sleeping since we came here?”

“No. Well, sometimes. It’s not always.” She shook her head. “Didn’t want to get you nattered about it.”

“I wish you would,” he said sincerely. “I want you to be comfortable here, Kim – and if you’re not, say something.” She looked down. “Please?”

“Alright,” she said, but when she looked at him again there was another hint of a smile. “I was thinkin if I had something to try and read when I can’t sleep…” 

There, at last, was something he could help with and he grinned, pushing himself to his feet. “Absolutely. A wonderful idea. One I’ve used a time or two myself.”

They spent the next few minutes finding a few books that at least included sections that were close to her reading level. He marked them for her, walked with her back to the entrance and began to wish her a goodnight.

“If you need anything-”

“You’re not going to go back and spend another couple a hours writing, are you?” Kim interrupted. He blinked, startled, and she grinned. “You don’t get to fuss all over me without takin care of yourself.”

“You sound like Hunch,” he laughed. “Very well. I swear I’m going to sleep as well. Satisfied?”

“Yes,” she said, still with that sunny smile. “Goodnight, Mairelon.”

“Goodnight,” he echoed, watching her turn down the hall toward the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also known as 'Richard definitely has Feelings for Kim that even he is still somewhat oblivious to - but they're there.'


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really sure where I was going with this one but I'm happy with it.

The staff at the Merrill estate in Kent was, apparently, smaller than what would usually come with a house that size. There were few enough maids that by the end of the first month Kim knew all of their names and, privately, had personal favorites she knew to ask for if she had odd questions.

One of the younger maids, Sarah, was one she was something close to comfortable with, and was the one who had brought her different, lighter bedding after Mairelon had no doubt told her to.  

“Getting time to change to summer linens,” was all she had said when Kim commented. 

“Are you going to change all the bedrooms?” Kim asked, nettled. It wasn’t even May. 

Sarah smiled. “Not just yet, miss. Starting with the ones in use.”

They all called her ‘miss’, which was already alarming for Kim – very used to, when being referred to at all, being called ‘boy’. Add the few times they called her ‘ _Miss Merrill_ ’ and Kim would actually look behind her to see if they were talking to someone else.

Marielon was always ‘Mr. Merrill’ or ‘sir’. She’d gotten enough looks whenever she called him Mairelon to know that it was probably proper for her to call him Mr. Merrill as well, but Mairelon never corrected her like he did with her grammar and her street cant so she decided not to put any effort into changing her name for him. Even though he now consistently dressed like the well-bred gentleman he was, Kim still couldn’t see him as anything other than the Mairelon she knew.

“So you’re just changing mine, then,” Kim said presently.

Sarah pressed her lips together for a moment, clearly fighting a bigger smile. “Mr. Merrill requested it, but if you would prefer to wait, I can take them back.”

Kim rolled her eyes, at Mairelon not Sarah. She liked the prospect of not feeling overheated at night, but – regardless of what Mairelon said – she didn’t want to make a big fuss whenever she wasn’t perfectly comfortable. She’d been a lot more uncomfortable in her life, after all. She hated to come across as ungrateful.

She didn’t want to refuse, though – not when the maid was currently halfway through changing the bedding. “Suppose I should thank him later,” she muttered. 

Sarah gave her a peculiar look, from which Kim could determine her begrudging idea of gratitude was probably not the right amount of respectful toward her guardian. Kim smiled inwardly, thinking how the staff would react to some of the things she called Mairelon when she was truly annoyed with him. Surely, anyone who knew him would understand the impulse.

That thought gave her pause. “Did you know him before, you know, everything?”

She wasn’t sure how to define everything, but thankfully Sarah understood what she meant. “No, miss. Many of us were hired by Master Andrew while his brother was in France.”

“Oh,” she said. That shouldn’t have been surprising, in and of itself, but since everything with the Saltash Set had been sorted and Mairelon had kept her in tow as he returned to society, Kim had been accustoming herself to the idea that in the crowds he would return to associating in, she knew him the least. What’s more, she had known a persona that he’d had for a couple months compared to folk who had known Richard Merrill for years. 

It was a strange, but not unwelcome, realization - that while in Kent things would be closer to how they had been when it had first been the two of them, and Hunch, together. 

“Have you known him long, then, miss?” Sarah asked. “Mindin’ my asking.”

“Don’t matter to me,” she said instinctively. She didn’t like all the servants being so formal and stiff-necked around her. “And no, I… guess I’ve only known him a couple a months now.” 

It both did and didn’t feel like that to her. It was strangely difficult, sometimes, for Kim to remember that it had only been a few weeks since Mairelon the Magician had come into her life - or vice versa as the case would have it. Other times, however, the thought was uncomfortably close at hand. Though she’d never tell him, some nights the reason Kim couldn’t sleep had nothing to do with being overheated. Instead it was the nightmares; she would wake up and discover that her adventures with Mairelon had been the dream and that she was still on the streets with no plans and no future. 

Kim shook herself and continued before Sarah could say anything. “He’s a queer one, so get used to bein asked for weird things.” She gestured to the bed just as Sarah finished smoothing everything into perfect shape again. She straightened and gave Kim another strange look, and she hastened to add, “Nothin _weird_ -weird. He never really asks for anything he wouldn’t be willing to do himself, and he’ll usually listen if you got any concerns.”

She realized she was describing their adventures in subterfuge and not the mundane requests of household staff and stopped. “Anyway, I’m just sayin’ as toffs go… as people go, too, I guess - he’s pretty alright.”

Sarah continued to look at her a bit odd, but nodded. “Glad to hear you think well of him, miss.”

She politely excused herself after that, and Kim sat on her new bedding - alone for a minute with her thoughts.

* * *

 

Kim joined Mairelon in the library with her usual opening comment: “You gonna teach me any magic today?”

She’d started saying something of the sort every day for the past week, starting when she had muttered it sarcastically when faced with an afternoon being taught Latin words and phrases that didn’t have any sort of the magical edges she longed to learn. Of course, even without Mairelon’s resulting explanation, she knew that she could hardly read English let alone another language and certain skills would need to be built up in her before she could get anywhere. Still, knowing that didn’t mean she wasn’t sometimes frustrated.

Mairelon looked up from her Latin book, clearly planning out what he was going to go over with her today, and smiled as he said what he _always_ said in reply: “Of course I am.”

She rolled her eyes, even as she smiled at the routine she had formed with Mairelon here - beyond their call-and-response. Mornings she practiced reading and writing (in English) alongside learning the most basic of etiquette. Afternoons were spent on magic lessons, which currently meant lessons in Latin and occasionally small passages from heavy old books on magical theory. If she got tired, or especially irritable, Mairelon would read to her – plays and fairy stories – or show her how some of his more complicated stage magic worked.

“What?” Mairelon added, when apparently she had been smiling more than she normally would. “Have I got ink on my face or something?”

"No,” Kim said, although she didn’t explain. She wasn’t sure she could explain; in the wake of her short conversation with Sarah, Kim was thinking about how, eight or nine weeks ago, she wouldn’t have been able to picture herself sleeping under a roof regularly. That she’d be living in a manor house, learning magic, spending her time with a toff that seemed to genuinely care about her wellbeing… she’d never have been able to imagine such a thing.

In a softer voice she said, “Thanks, by the way.”

"Hm? What for?” Mairelon asked, with his customary look of innocence that hadn’t fooled her back when she’d barely known him a day.

She shook her head, still smiling. “Nothing. What’ve you got today?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tack on "the entire staff at the Merrill Estate" to the list of people who knew Mairelon and Kim were into each other before they did.
> 
> Anyway, I've got about 5 more fics planned in this particular series of Kent stories. Hope you're enjoying them!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I realized I couldn't have a fic about Kim learning magic in Kent without having a chapter about Kim... learning magic. It was harder than expected but I'm pleased with the result

“You going to teach me any magic today?” Kim said by rote, letting herself into the library. The long, familiar room was lit with midafternoon sunlight. Almost four months into her time with Mairelon, summer had turned the countryside a lush green and sun was prevalent throughout much of the day.

Instead of the response Kim was used to, Mairelon looked up from something he had been reading with his biggest grin – the one that she thought made him look like a kid that just got away with stealing sweets. She found herself smiling back on instinct, before he even spoke. “As a matter of fact, I have something for you. Come here.”

Kim came over to the writing desk. “What is it?”

If possible, Mairelon’s smile widened. He didn’t say anything, just turned the book toward her. After a second of eyeing him suspiciously, Kim leaned over it and made her best attempt at reading.

She recognized the picture on the page first, an illustration of a hand holding a ball of magical light. She’d been given a passage on that page almost a month ago and just like back then, she found her eyes drawn more to the illustration than to any of the small print.

“What do you remember about this?” Mairelon asked, when she didn’t say anything.

Kim couldn’t remember which part was the passage that she had been given – it was in Latin anyway, and she’d needed Mairelon to translate a great deal of it – but she remembered the lesson that accompanied it. “There are some enchantments that do just one thing or one thing that don’t- doesn’t last long and so you doesn’t- don’t,” she paused to send Mairelon a quick glare when he chuckled. She could only focus on one of her lessons at a time, _thank you very much_. “You _don’t_ need to draw a diagram to cast it.”

Mairelon nodded. “They still require a somatic motion, and those can get complicated in more advanced work as well – but the easier the enchantment, the simpler the movement required. That’s why they’re historically the first kind of spell an apprentice wizard is taught to cast.”

It took Kim a second to realize what he was implying, and she gasped. “You mean you’re gonna really teach me magic today?”

“I _have_ been teaching you magic,” he pointed out, but he was still grinning at her – her excitement feeding his. “I am, however, going to teach you a spell today.”

Before she could ask what spell, he set the book aside and held his hand out, palm up with his fingers curled into what was not quite a fist. Rather like he was holding something very small in his palm.

Mairelon said, “Fiat lux” and opened his fingers out and suddenly he was holding a ball of light. It was as big as the largest sphere in the Saltash Set, fitting perfectly in his hand, and held a steady, cool glow. It was a perfect replica of the image from the book that Kim hadn’t been able to get out of her head.

“You’re going to teach me how to do that?” She asked, wide-eyed and wondering. She could barely tear her eyes away from the small globe of light; though it was hardly the most extravagant thing she had seen him do since their acquaintance had begun, it held a different awe for her now.

Mairelon looked up from his creation; the glow reflected on his face. “Exactly. Light spells are one of the first enchantments taught, and – I believe – well-within the level of study you’re at now. Come,” he beckoned with his free hand.

Kim stepped closer, and allowed Mairelon to guide her through a more detailed description of the composition of the ball of light. When she touched it – at his request – her fingers passed through as though nothing was there while the globe neither flickered nor altered shape at her touch. If she had to say, it felt warmer, but not by nearly as much as she would have expected.

Mairelon then walked her through the steps of casting – the meaning of the words and the purpose of the hand motion.

“You can,” he added, “use this spell to light candles, but understandably, that comes much later. Losing control of this spell will cause the effect to simply disappear. A flame… not so much.” Kim imagined how many fires in London might have started by careless magic and nodded.

Mairelon extinguished his light, closing his fingers back together one by one, the ball of light smaller with each until it disappeared entirely. “Do you have any questions?”

“I don’t think so.”

He studied her carefully a moment, and then nodded decisively. “Alright then. Cast it.”

Kim held out her hand, closing her fingers together so they all touched. She stared very hard at her hand, opened her fingers all together and said, “Fiat lux.”

Nothing happened.

She stared for a moment at her empty hand and then looked up at Mairelon, suddenly very sure that her supposed gift for magic had been made up and she had spent the last three and a half months working toward something that had always been impossible. He looked suddenly away from her, his lips pressed together. Kim realized he was holding back laughter.

“What?” She said crossly.

“Nothing,” he said, composing himself. “You looked so very put out, and I suppose that is my fault. I did not expect it to work on your first try, and should have told you as much.”

Kim’s scowl lessened although she still frowned. “Really?”

“Yes, of course. It’s not a small step, transitioning from theoretical to practical. Now, try again.”

She rolled her shoulders, put out her hand again and repeated the movement and the words. Nothing happened. She closed her fingers and opened them again, saying the words louder. Still nothing happened. She might as well have been saying any other Latin phrase she had learned, her words were just as lifeless. She glared at her hand and said it again. And again.

“Not so fast,” Mairelon said, this time not bothering to contain his laughter. “Take a deep breath, center yourself, and concentrate.”

Again, Kim put her focus back on her hand. To her humiliation, she could feel her eyes stinging with frustrated tears. She hadn’t expected learning magic to be easy – it hadn’t been so far – and Mairelon had said that it was normal that she wouldn’t get it right away, and yet she still felt like she was letting him down. She forced both the tears and the anxiety away, they weren’t helpful. She concentrated on the point where all her fingers touched, imagining the light exploding like a spark of fire from flint. She said the words, not loud, but clear.

“Fiat. Lux.”

Her fingers tingled and the words wobbled in the air, not as sharp and clean as Mairelon’s magic but like nothing she had ever managed before. A spark of light hovered a second in the center of her open hand, a tiny sunburst there and then gone immediately.

Kim squeaked, even as the ember vanished, even as her words dissipated like fog in the sunlight. It had not been long lasting but it had been magic. It had been her, Kim, performing magic. She looked at Mairelon again, finding her own joy mirrored in his warm smile, the gleam of pride in his eyes. She smiled back, feeling a little lightheaded.

“Very good,” he said. “Did you notice what you did differently that time?”

She thought. “I focused more on the words, and what they meant.”

His smile grew. “Very good,” he repeated. “It’s easy to focus on what you think should happen, or what you want to happen, but if magic only worked by how much we wanted it, it would be a lot simpler – and a lot more dangerous. Concentration should be on what you, yourself, are doing and saying, not on the result, even when it’s more difficult.”

Kim nodded. Right then, nothing felt difficult. She had done _magic_. She was on top of the world.

“Your next step will be working on growing that effect, and maintaining it,” Mairelon continued. “Tomorrow, we can work more on that.”

“Tomorrow? But I didn’t make the ball yet.” Kim said, her elation immediately falling.

“And I didn’t expect you to,” he reminded her. “You’ve taken your first step, and the largest one. That’s more than enough for one lesson.”

She frowned, looking out the window. The back garden was still alight with afternoon sun. Dinner wouldn’t be for a few hours yet and she didn’t like the idea of going back to dusty old books when magic was very literally at her fingertips. “Did you have anything else planned?”

“Well, not exactly-“

Which meant more books. “Can I try again now, if I want to?”

Mairelon paused. “Are you sure? We can take our time with this.” She could tell, however, that he was as excited to keep going as she was. He’d never had an apprentice before, she thought. This was as much his accomplishment as hers and she felt proud of them both.

“I’m sure,” she said, and was rewarded with his smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is also the first part of three closely connected chapters. I almost put them all together here but it got WAY too long.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some inspiration drawn here from the end of suzyturquoiseblue03's The Drawing Room Revisited. So, thanks for that :)

Kim and Mairelon worked on her spellcasting for the rest of that afternoon, and the following three days. He checked in with her once or twice, to see if she wanted to keep going, but didn’t seem to mind at all that they might be getting behind on her reading while they focused on this. She certainly didn’t see any reason to stop now that they were _finally_ getting to the kind of lessons she had dreamed of.

By the end of the second day, Kim had developed a slight headache that flared up when she concentrated too hard, not dissimilar to the kind that she sometimes got trying to read very small print or in dim light. She was already used to the reading headaches and didn’t think it worth mentioning. Besides, it faded, mostly, when the lesson was over and entirely by the time she’d had dinner. On the third day, it lingered into the evening and she told Mairelon she was tired and retired early, hoping the extra sleep would remedy things.

Kim woke up the next morning with her head feeling ready to split open. She groaned at the light streaming in through her bedroom window while Sarah helped dress her.

"Are you well, miss?" The maid asked when Kim wobbled a little on her feet.

She shook her head – and the room took a second to settle back around her. "It’s just a headache."

Sarah was frowning but if she had anything to say she had decided that her station did not permit it. Kim wished she had not sounded quite so dismissive. "I’ll be fine," she added awkwardly, and went down to breakfast.

Mairelon was already up, which while not rare was still somewhat uncommon. She didn’t know when he usually woke but he did tell her once that he usually read for several hours before coming down to eat. Kim had no such morning tasks and often beat him down by a quarter of an hour at the least. How late had she slept that morning? Odd, too, that she still felt so exhausted. 

"Good morning," her guardian greeted her, glancing up in his usual, absent-minded way. A second later, however, his head snapped up again. "Are you alright?" 

What a sight she must be, she thought, if it had managed to catch his attention. She waved a hand as she took her seat, happy to be off her feet. "Tired." Mairelon raised an eyebrow – aware, as she was, that she had specifically gone to bed early the night before. "And my head hurts," she admitted.

"Ah," Mairelon said. Without being asked, he passed her the pot of tea. Tea, Kim had realized, was what the gentry considered something of a cure-all, the way people in the slums treated ale. Unlike ale, however, even if the tea didn’t improve anything it never made her feel worse. "Have you been having trouble sleeping again?"

"No," she said, meaning it. Mairelon seemed to believe her and nodded. Kim poured herself a cup and added, "Thank you," belatedly. She hadn’t had a taste for tea at first, but she was starting to like the warmth of it.

Mairelon studied her carefully for a minute more. "You know, I _have_ been meaning to ask you if you might want to take a break from your lessons."

Even with her headache, Kim was a little disappointed, and it must have shown in her face because he smiled sympathetically. "Just for the day. Come now, I think you’ve more than earned a day or rest. Besides, I’m sure it has been no improvement to your health, being cooped up here day in and day out. The weather is holding for the first time in weeks, and it might do well for us both to walk the grounds a bit."

Kim hardly considered the massive manor home a place one could be ‘cooped up’, and her current state of lightheadedness protested much movement. Nonetheless the prospect of seeing more of the Merrill Estate was an appealing one. He’d gotten around to giving her a full tour nearly two months before, but the chilly spring air and an unexpected bout of rain had meant that they hadn’t had much time to really consider the surroundings.  

"Does that mean no reading?" She added hopefully. The thought of trying to puzzle out tiny printed letters made her queasy. 

Mairelon’s lips twitched. "I did say a break from lessons, didn’t I?"

Kim nearly sighed her relief. "Alright," she said. She glanced down at her, still full, plate of food. Maybe it wasn’t just the idea of reading that was making her feel sick. She picked at a little more, grateful to see that Mairelon had also turned his attention to his food – away from her. She didn’t want him getting so nattered he’d take back his offer of walking.

Several minutes and a picked over plate later, Kim wasn’t feeling any better but that was all the more reason to get out. She only hoped that moving around would make her feel better and not worse. The sunlight, even in the dining room, was making her eyes water slightly. “When did you want to leave?” She asked.

“Mm?” Mairelon glanced up at her again. “When you’re ready.”

Kim was about to say she was ready, before remembering had different shoes for walking upstairs (the fact that she had _multiple pairs_ of shoes still amazed her). “I’ll get ready, then.”

“We don’t have to,” he added, still watching her face, his brows drawn together as he frowned. “If you’d rather...”

She cut him off with a shake of her head. “I’m fine, Mairelon. I’ll be back down in a minute.”

She stood up and immediately regretted it as the whole room spun. All at once it felt as though she hadn’t eaten or slept in days, and she quickly put a hand on the table to steady herself as her vision went dark at the corners. 

Though she couldn’t focus, she distantly heard Mairelon stand up sharply. "Kim?"

She tried to say she was just a little dizzy; nothing came out. She went to put her other hand down but her perception was off and she missed the table and lost her balance, darkness spreading over her eyes. If Mairelon said anything else, she didn’t hear him. In that moment she could neither see nor hear anything.

She didn’t even feel him catch her. 

* * *

When she was aware of her surroundings again, she was in her room. She blinked blearily at the coffered ceiling above her. She was still exhausted and her head ached fiercely. The room was darker, though she didn’t know if that was an indicator of time passing or the curtains being closed. 

A shifting to her left caught her attention and she turned her head to see Mairelon, having moved the chair from her dressing table to beside her bed. He was reading, in spite of the poor light, and looked like he had been there a long time indeed. 

She opened her mouth – to say what she didn’t know – and inhaled wrong, causing her to cough weakly. Mairelon looked up, closing his books with a snap. She waited for him to say something but instead he set the book aside and passed her a cup of water that had sat on her nightstand while she pushed herself into sitting up.

When the fit had passed, she cradled the cup in her hands with no better idea of what to say. Part of her had just wanted to go back to sleep but now she felt like they needed to talk. "Um."

"How long had you been having that headache?" He asked without preamble.

Kim winced. Mairelon’s tone and expression were closed. He looked like he had when he had caught her eavesdropping on him months ago, and in spite of everything they had been through since, she suddenly felt just as sure that he was going to throw her out immediately.

"A couple of days," she admitted. "I’d- I mean, it weren’t like this. I woulda said something if it were like this." She wasn’t sure that was the truth but it was something to say and she needed something to say. She looked down at her hands. "I must have just got too tired."

"No," Mairelon said immediately, still without inflection. She looked at him again. "You weren’t tired. Or, rather, you weren’t _just_ tired; you were drained. Magic is like building muscle. You’re going to wear out quicker before you build up a resistance. You were pushing past your reserve and not taking enough time in between for it to build up again."

"I’m sorry," she said miserably.

His frown deepened. "What for?"

"I should have told you earlier and not kept pushing myself-" she stopped when Mairelon raised his hand, looking still deeply unhappy. 

"You had no idea what pushing yourself would do and therefor saw no reason not to. I did, and not only did I fail to properly warn you, I let you continue when I knew better." He looked abruptly at the, curtained, window. "This is my fault. Entirely."

His tone, still considerably colder than she was used to, clashed with his words. Kim felt a different kind of nausea than she had at breakfast; she still felt responsible for this. She’d gotten ahead of herself, gotten the kind of confidant that got people on the streets killed. She should have known better.

"It ain’t your fault." He gave a humorless laugh and she added. "It ain’t _just_ your fault. You didn’t know I was drainin’ myself any more than I did."

“That’s the point,” he said, looking back at her. "I _should_ have realized.” 

“That ain’t your lookout.”

“It very much is. Kim, you are mine to care for." 

Kim opened her mouth, ready to argue, and then stopped - finally placing the disconnect from what Mairelon was saying and how he said it. He was angry, with himself not her, but he had also been worried. Genuinely worried that his oversight had harmed her. It hardly made her feel better. She wasn’t used to anybody caring for her so consistently. 

Or maybe she was - and that was it’s own problem. Maybe part of why she had pushed on was thinking that Mairelon would stop her if it was dangerous. Maybe they were both new to this caring and being cared for nonsense. 

She sighed. “And I’m still breathin’,” she said. “I ain’t likely to get worse, am I?"

"No," Mairelon said, somewhat reluctantly. “Rest - and refraining from use of magic - is all that this particularly ailment call for.” 

“Then it ain’t nothing for you to get nattered about.”

Mairelon paused, looking ready to say something else but then shook his head. “Isn’t,” he said at last, his voice soft - losing its anger and worry. 

“Alright - isn’t,” she said. She was going to say something more, maybe apologize again for worrying him, but it was lost in a yawn.

Mairelon smiled for the first time since she had come to, and she felt a bit of relief wash over her. “I’ll let you get back to that rest, then,” he said. “Do you need anything?”

Kim nearly brushed off his concern, but tired as she was, it was easier to indulge it. “More water?” 

His smile grew. “Of course. I’ll be back in a minute.”

She was asleep again by the time he returned. 


End file.
